


Hello Schadenfreude, My Old Friend

by coffeelacedwords



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeelacedwords/pseuds/coffeelacedwords
Summary: Where Gilfoyle loves misery, especially Dinesh's.





	Hello Schadenfreude, My Old Friend

At first Gilfoyle does it because it's fun - removing all the unwanted order of human construct and introducing some much needed chaos into an otherwise meaningless existence. Watching someone squirm because their overdeveloped sense of 'comfortable' is being questioned is really one of the greatest pleasures in life. Obviously, Dinesh mortified and unable to fight back is its own reward.

"What are you doing?" Dinesh gasps, his eyes wide and his hands out like he forgot how to use them.

"Using the restroom," he replies, pressing Dinesh into the wall of the executive hotel bathroom.

"T-that's," he stutters, "That's not what I meant?" He actually squeaks, his voice tipping up as Gilfoyle becomes very familiar with how Dinesh feels trapped between him and a horrendously inaccurate mural of Elvis Presley. There's a part of him, a part that sounds a lot like Tara, laughing at the idea that he's doing any of this simply as a prank.

Maybe just the two of them going alone to CES was a bad idea after all.

The door opens, lights reflecting off of more gold plating than any glorified waste depository has the right to have. Suddenly the face of the very surprised, very eager-to-help-Dinesh-with-his-spilled-coffee receptionist is there, staring right through them.

"Oh!" She turns away, pausing in the doorway in what Gilfoyle guesses is consideration. "I see you found what you were looking for."

Dinesh's chanting of _'No, no, no_ ' doesn't stop the click of the door as she leaves. Gilfoyle waits until Dinesh finally faces him, misery clear in his expression. That dark part of Gilfoyle that gorges itself on other people's pain swells, fat and happy, and he finally steps back enough so that they're not touching.

"Oh no," Gilfoyle proclaims with mock concern. "Do you think she thought we were together?"

Shaking his head, Dinesh mouths around words he's unable to form until he finally settles on, "I fucking hate you."

Gilfoyle smiles and gestures him out of the restroom, the instigating coffee stain still clear across Dinesh's shirt. The icing on the shit cake is Dinesh sullen in a Pied Piper shirt while Gilfoyle gleefully waves at the receptionist whenever she passes by the booth. This is definitely not an obsession.

\---

It's when Jared says those insignificant words, _'each other's best friend'_ , that Gilfoyle starts to question if sabotaging Dinesh is less about human indulgence and more just about Dinesh. The idea unsettles him.

"Please," Dinesh hisses in a soft mockery of a whisper, leaning closer to him. He's eyeing a tall brunette who'd rather be anywhere else but here. With that one word and those large pleading eyes, he means _'let me have this'_ and _'don't ruin this for me.'_ All Gilfoyle hears is ammunition for later. Dinesh repeats, "Please."

Gilfoyle shivers and wonders when Dinesh begging started twisting his insides the way it does.

"Don't let me stop you," he snickers, sipping his beer and pretending to turn away.

Observing him from across Laurie's party, he smirks as Dinesh crashes and burns in a poor example of human interaction without any assistance from any outside forces. Gilfoyle reads every less than smooth line Dinesh feeds her and can't hide the smirk spreading across his face. When Dinesh crawls back with his figurative tail between his legs, Gilfoyle has a shot waiting and a circle of blowhards ready to entertain them.

He clinks his glass with Dinesh's and concludes that all of this is just a normal level of obsession. He also makes sure to fuck with Jared for messing with his perfectly good system of not caring.

\---

Gilfoyle never premeditates sabotaging Dinesh. He just rolls with what Dinesh leaves him to work with. Really, Dinesh does all of that on his own. Somehow all of this became less about Dinesh and more about them, more accurately about keeping everyone else away.

Gilfoyle considers it some form of luck that Dinesh doesn't notice the way he watches him, doesn't feel the itch Gilfoyle feels. If Dinesh were more observant, he'd see that it's pure calculation on Gilfoyle's part. Manipulation is a natural human characteristic. How is Gilfoyle supposed to suppress one of the most essential parts of himself?

All it takes is Gilfoyle snapping his fingers and Dinesh is at his side, eager to get coffee or to talk shit. Most of the time Gilfoyle doesn't even need to ask. Maybe that's when the obsession started, when Gilfoyle slowly transformed into _Dinesh and Gilfoyle_.

He watches the reflection of the pool on Dinesh's face, flickering light curving along his cheek, and even Gilfoyle doesn't know how deep this goes. He's not high enough to justify waxing poetics about reflective light and Dinesh's skin.

"I'm telling you, between _Carpool Karaoke_ and celebrity lip-synching, late night network television is the new antichrist."

"That's insulting to me and my religion."

Dinesh laughs, an honest clear sound that has Gilfoyle smiling back. He tunes out what Dinesh is saying and maps out the profile of his nose, the tilt of his eyes. It's when Gilfoyle catches himself watching Dinesh's hands for five minutes straight that he considers that he put too much into whatever _Dinesh and Gilfoyle_ is.

He also considers cutting down on his smoking.

\---

Gilfoyle tries to pinpoint when the shift happens, either when Richard was fired as CEO or maybe even as far back as their miracle on the TechCrunch stage. Dinesh would always be there next to him but recently they've been less about animosity, less about catching one over on one another, and more about siding on the same front.

Gilfoyle doesn't recognize the change coming until it's too late.

They're all celebrating pulling Pied Piper out from under Hooli, the excited chants of _'always blue'_ floating around and cool plastic bouncing in his hand, and that's when Gilfoyle gets it. He'd never say it out loud but being a packaged deal with Dinesh is the one requirement he has for moving forward. He assures himself that it's simply because he's the only one who can truly make Dinesh miserable. 

Dinesh is giggly off of two beers and beaming, chattering about bugs they need to fix. The others leave, one by one, until it's just them like it always is. His knee jitters, the happy buzz of beer long gone, and Dinesh is humming something off key to himself, fiddling with the chat code.

Gilfoyle slides his chair up to Dinesh's. "You know I'm just going to undo all the stupid shit you're adding, right?"

Dinesh smiles at that, and it feels like just a few weeks ago that Dinesh would have scowled at him and barked out an insult.

"You're just jealous, Gilfoyle," Dinesh laughs, swiveling towards him.

It's pure human impulse, receptors bumping together, that makes Gilfoyle wrap his fingers in the front of Dinesh's shirt and pull him forward into a kiss.

Dinesh melts into it, tasting like lukewarm beer. Gilfoyle slides Dinesh closer, their knees touching, and deepens the kiss. He's never been one to question his impulses and now certainly isn't the time to start. Despite their odd shaped edges, they fit and it should surprise the hell out of him. But it doesn't.

He finally pulls back with a wet sound, Dinesh voicing a small noise of protest, his eyes still closed.

Gilfoyle waits for Dinesh to open his eyes, takes pleasure in the rawness of Dinesh's lips, his mouth still slightly parted. When their eyes finally lock, Gilfoyle says, "I've never been jealous a day in my life."

He watches the way his hand slides down Dinesh's chests, the action vaguely possessive. He thinks about Tara and their very open situation, thinks about being a kid and working to be better than every kid he came across. Gilfoyle thinks about how getting older hasn't really changed that, except that there are more assholes and it's the best feeling in the world to watch them crash and burn. Jealously has never been a factor. 

He tips his head in consideration to add, "Except of all those lucky bastards already living it up in the blissful afterlife of Hell."

Dinesh shakes his head in disbelief, eyes still glassy and far off. When Gilfoyle stands up, he turns and heads for his room. Never looking back he calls out, "You coming?"

Lucky for him, Dinesh is smart enough not to be asked a second time.

\---

Sometimes even he thinks he's cruel.

"Fuck," Dinesh whispers, tucking his face against Gilfoyle's neck, clinging to him as Gilfoyle jerks him off.

He hums, a deep happy sound, and quietly teases, "You don't want them to hear us, do you?"

Dinesh fights back a curse and mumbles against his neck, "You're an asshole."

Of course, Dinesh doesn't have to know that no one's home and that there is zero chance that anyone will interrupt them. If Dinesh did know that, all of his fun would be ruined. He presses Dinesh harder into his bedroom door, widening his stance with a kick of his feet.

Dinesh whines at a particularly long stroke, making more noise than when Gilfoyle asks for it. _'Contrary motherfucker_ ,' he thinks, swallowing another moan with a kiss. Desperation is in every movement, his legs shaking and his hands restless. He's useless when he's this close and Gilfoyle is not surprised that someone as repressed as Dinesh gets off on this.

Gilfoyle smirks and leans back before stilling his hand. He tilts his head for show and pretends to listen before asking, "Did you hear that?"

Dinesh freezes, his whole body tense and all it takes is a few solid pumps of his hand and Dinesh comes across his fist. He muffles the moan, barely, and he grips to Gilfoyle like he's trying to keep from drowning.

"I knew it," he gloats, squinting at Dinesh.

"Go sacrifice a virgin."

Gilfoyle laughs, a soft wheezing sound, and devours the miserable flush across Dinesh's face, already thinking up others ways to see that expression again. 


End file.
